The Dawson journal., 1887-02-03
WATER OR WINE.
Maurice Thompson, in The Independent

4 1eUdAlHS wafer HAS always pUS-
sessed charuI for the minds of
men second to no other influence
in outdoor life. All through the
old literatures, from the brooks of
the Bible to the resplendent foun-
tains of Horace, we hear the bub-
bling of the transparent streams
and feel the coolness and fresh
ness OF their currents. Whether
we walk by the Jordan, or rest by
the dreamy source of some sacred
stream" we never miss the dis
tinct and individual fascination
the melodious mystery OF the rip
ping element, SO abundant and
yet SO precious; the tinted, water
worn pebbles, the white sand, the
flashing minnows, the kingfsher!
The poets, those glorious loun-
gers by the brooks, long ago sur
prised the rhythmic secret of run
ming water; but they have never
been able to imprison in their Tyr
les that under throb, that liquid
counterpart which palpitates in
every brook and rivulet from
Texas to Turkestan. Anacreon
caught the gurgle of wine, and set
in exquisite phrasing the sensu-
Gus, Turing delights of the mocker
growing red in the glass, and
Keats, the restless, longing boy,
has cried out:
"0h. for a breaker full of the warm South,
Fun of the true, the blushful Hippo
creme,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim
And puTple-stained mouth"
But the artless, healthy soul
would have thought of the bub-
bling spring, with the fragrant
mint growing around it. | re-
member one, where the pepper
mint and cress and calamus form
ed the frame OF pool, clearer
and sweeter than that Of Bandu-
sia; and gourd was the beaker,
at whose brian the beaded bubbles
winke1. One who drank there
felt the coolness slowly steal
throughout his frame, and it was
as IL Nature had poured her fresh
ness through his veins. If wine
is a nocker, water is CONSIDER.
If your nerves are tired, there is
no medicine so good as the sound
of a pure, swiftly-fowing brook.
The restorative effect comes of
the lulling, soothing ripple-music.
Insom MIA is impossible where this
stream -bubbling can b. heard.
The sweetest sleep that ever ca ne
to tired eyelids may be had by
hanging your hammock (some
sultry summer night directly
above noisy rapid of some pure
brook, or by the sea. | remem-
Der many a night of delicious
slrmber on the cool, dry sand of a
Floridian coast-island. The swash
and boom Of the Atlantic comes
with the thought. The sweetest
flowers and the most luxuriant
plants grow where water is; they
scem to revel in the moisture, the
GOODNESS, the music and the per-
vading freshness. All the four
footed animals and the birds con-
gregate at times near the springs
and brooks, or slip shyly down to
the still pools to battle. The
shade is more refreshing and the
sunshine is more antiseptic in the
little dells where the influence Of
the restless water currents fl all
the air. What fagon with its
mysterious philter can stay the
very soul thirst like a jug Of water
from the hillside spring. Com
fort me with a draught from the
"moss-covered bucket" Even a
picture of an old well-sweep is
cooling and satisfying, almost.
But a bath in cunning waterl
Have you watched a fish in a crys-
tal-clear current, his head up
stream, working his fins just
enough to keep him stationery?
What comfort is suggested!
Every pore of ones skin, every
ultimate PARTICLE Of one's nerve.
tissue, every fiber of ones frame,
clamors for the luxury that the
fish enjoys. See that wading-
hird, heron or sand-piper; how
the sense Of GOODNESS mast steal
up those stilt.llke legs and ripple
out to the tip of every feather!